<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Turn on the Strings by Shedoras</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126685">A Turn on the Strings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shedoras/pseuds/Shedoras'>Shedoras</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Co-Workers to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, Violinist!Viktor, manager!yuuri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:01:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shedoras/pseuds/Shedoras</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Yuuri Katsuki accidentally becomes the manager of world-renowned violinist Viktor Nikiforov - and falls in love without even realizing it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Turn on the Strings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was supposed to be a cute little one-shot for a gift exchange but then it became More so here's the first chapter I'm posting for the exchange and I will post the rest Soon.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Viktor Nikiforov is many things. World-renowned violinist, accomplished performer, talented composer, classical music heartthrob (as much as the world of classical music </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a heartthrob), and, currently, the bane of Yuuri Katsuki’s existence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri stares hopelessly at the time on his phone, watching the numbers tick dangerously close to their flight’s departure time, as he pleads with Viktor through the hotel door. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“Viktor</span> <span>I am </span><em><span>begging </span></em><span>you we’ve made it through the last 12 stops of this tour without incident and I don’t want to start now we </span><em><span>really </span></em><span>have to go the flight is in less than two hours and we’re definitely going to hit rush hour traffic and if we don’t leave in the next 5 minutes we </span><em><span>will </span></em><span>miss the flight and your violin will arrive in Boston without you there to actually play it which will definitely be a bit of a problem so </span><em><span>please </span></em><span>just pick an outfit so we can leave already you could wear literal sweatpants and still be more handsome than everyone else on the flight so just put something, </span><em><span>anything </span></em><span>on so we can go-”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri’s increasingly desperate pleas are cut off when the door suddenly swings open and Viktor steps out, dressed to the nines with an expertly tailored shirt, fitted slacks, and a dangerous smirk on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah so you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>think I’m handsome.” he teases as he leans nonchalantly against the doorframe, brushing a hand through artfully tousled hair with a wink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor’s teasing is a constant Yuuri has always struggled to adjust to in the five years they’ve worked together. Before their manager and musician relationship slowly blossomed into friendship, Yuuri was frequently left speechless at Viktor’s flirtation, whether it was directed towards him or not. Even now, that sort of comment would usually leave Yuuri flustered and stammering his way into an awkward change of subject. Then again, they aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>usually </span>
  </em>
  <span>minutes away from missing their flight to the last stop of Viktor’s world tour, and Yuuri is too frazzled to even register the teasing remark. He just grabs Viktor’s perfectly fitted sleeve and tugs him down the hallway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their footsteps are muffled by the plush carpet of the high-end hotel, and though the decor is gold and gaudy and overbearing and altogether way too much, Yuuri is in that moment thankful for the excess, his stomping gait softened to quiet thuds as they make their way towards the elevators. Viktor, in contrast, is much more relaxed, and he huffs a quiet laugh as Yuuri aggressively hits the down button 50 times in a row. The elevators seem to be as intent on torturing Yuuri as Viktor himself, creaking upwards at an almost glacial pace, and Yuuri shoots Viktor a glare. The glare doesn’t hold any actual heat in it though, more fond exasperation than anything else, and Viktor just grins as Yuuri continues on his endless stress rant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve already called for valet so our rental car should be waiting for us, but we seriously can’t stop for anything once we get down to the lobby, not even the complimentary champagne or those ridiculously delicious hors d’oeuvres I haven’t stopped thinking about for days and stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughing </span>
  </em>
  <span>at me Viktor I don’t see anything funny about this how are you not freaking out right now I truly don’t understand how you’re so meticulous about every note you play, but so completely </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopeless</span>
  </em>
  <span> when it comes to sticking to any kind of schedule you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbelievable.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why you’re here, to keep me on track, oh favorite manager ever.” Viktor cheerfully sing-songs, and before Yuuri can reply the elevators finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>arrive with a cheerful ding. Yuuri quickly bundles his troublesome client into the elevator and Viktor doesn’t put up any further trouble as they duck and weave through the lobby past tuxedo-clad staff, posh guests, and even a giant, sparkling fountain smack dab in the middle of the entrance. Yuuri does spare a wistful glance towards the lounge off to the side of the lobby, glimpsing shining trays of delicious (and free!!) food he’s sorry to leave behind, but he heaves a sigh of relief when they’re finally out the door and settling into their waiting car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The navigation miraculously predicts that they’ll actually make it to the airport on time to depart with their flight and Yuuri, stress slightly abated, grumbles as they pull away from the hotel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re lucky it looks like you’re actually going to make it onto this flight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if I were unlucky and had ended up late enough to miss it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tension of before melts away in the dark interior of the car, and now it's finally Yuuri’s turn to smile, lips curving upward into a soft grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I would have been very disappointed in you Mr. World Famous Violinist Viktor Nikiforov.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s one of the rare moments when Yuuri actually teases </span>
  <em>
    <span>back, </span>
  </em>
  <span>when they’re in the aloneness of just the two of them and Yuuri is at ease, too fond to be tripped up by Viktor’s playful banter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor snorts, “Ow, you used the full name </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>title, you really were worried about me.”, and they both laugh quietly before settling into an easy silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor watches out the window for a moment, the city reduced to blurs of color sliding by in the dark of night, before glancing back over to Yuuri.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really didn’t mean to make you worry so much. I knew we were running a little behind, but I guess I got too wrapped up in the moment to see how stressed you were.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri hums. “It's alright. I know what I’m signed on for here and, anyways, it’s my </span>
  <em>
    <span>job </span>
  </em>
  <span>to worry about you, Viktor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you definitely excel at that part of the job, Yuuri. I don’t know what I’d do without you fussing over me all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri grins. “Probably be late to all your events and tank your career within a couple of weeks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>wound </span>
  </em>
  <span>me!” Viktor gasps in mock offense, dramatically clutching his chest, before continuing in a more genuine tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know I don’t always make it easy, being my manager,” Viktor begins.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More like ever,” Yuuri grumbles, and Viktor arches an infuriatingly perfect brow at him before continuing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I do appreciate you for more than just your worrying. You’re savvy in your management, and a perfect sounding board for all my music.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri flushes a little under the compliments. “Eh it’s nothing special. Any number of managers could do what I do and besides, you work on your compositions with a whole team of actual music professionals. I’m not sure how helpful my opinion is when I can't do much more than pluck a string.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But very few managers would care enough about me to actually be my </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not just my herder. And all those professionals care about is molding my work into something shiny and technically perfect. But you, Yuuri, you’ve always been honest in your feedback, and appreciative of what makes each song </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine </span>
  </em>
  <span>rather than what makes it perfect. And that is what makes your opinion worth more to me than the technical knowledge of all those snobby professionals put together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viktors tone grows more serious the longer he speaks, and when Yuuri glances over, he is taken aback by the pensive look in Viktor’s eyes. The easy atmosphere of moments ago quickly dissipates, the mood growing unexpectedly heavy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor forges ahead, this time more quietly and with an uncharacteristic trepidation to his words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re also a good friend to me. A very good friend. There are many, many people I’m friendly with, but very few I actually lean on the way I lean on you, and it means more to me than you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it’s true. Yuuri thinks back to when they first started working together, and all he saw was famous Viktor, with the easy smiles and quick flirtations and endless stream of enamored fans and colleagues. It was enough for Yuuri to write him off as shallow and vain, if talented. Just the kind of person Yuuri disliked. The first few months of his management of Viktor were defined by this perception, but then Yuuri began to see more. He saw the Viktor that practiced endlessly, perfecting each performance to an impossible standard. The Viktor that avoided networking events and begged off lunches with acquaintances, only to plead with Yuuri to eat with him so he wouldn’t be alone. He saw the Viktor that left behind the shiny mask he wore in public, revealing a much more complex, thoughtful, and private man than anyone ever saw. Anyone, that is, except for Yuuri and the handful of other people Viktor truly let in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri flounders for a moment at the genuine turn the conversation has taken. His hands flutter nervously on the steering wheel as he tries to form a response, but any words he has die on his tongue when he turns to look at Viktor, pinned under the sudden intensity of his expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I..uh...Viktor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor stares at Yuuri for a beat longer, then suddenly his expression shifts and a smile plasters itself across his face. He nods his head to the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks like we made it with time to spare.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri looks up, and sure enough, the entrance of the airport looms into view outside the windshield. Yuuri pulls up to the curb in silence, clearing his throat as he prepares to say something, anything. But before he can speak, the moment is broken by Viktor hopping out of the car and making his way around to retrieve their luggage from the trunk. Yuuri exits the car after a beat and walks to hand the keys over to the man behind the rental car kiosk, turning back to see Viktor approaching with their suitcases.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon Mr. Manager. We don’t want to be late for our flight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor’s expression is too bright, his voice oddly thick, but he just hands off Yuuri’s suitcase and begins striding purposefully towards security.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri is stuck still for a moment, feeling like he just missed something important, but he shakes his head and shoves the whole confusing conversation to the back of his mind, moving to follow behind Viktor. He’s right, after all. They have a plane to catch.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>